


Five times Kisame watched, one time he touched

by HeavenOnFire



Category: Naruto
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenOnFire/pseuds/HeavenOnFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Kisame sees himself and Itachi from their first day till their last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Kisame watched, one time he touched

**Author's Note:**

> I hated how Kisame didn't seem to care in the Manga or Anime.  
> This is my version of what really happened between them.

 

Five times Kisame watched, one time he touched

 

I.

 

Hoshigaki Kisame thought that people were right to fear him. Those oblivious to his nature shunned his way for his monstrous appearance and the danger amplified by the predators grin that seldom left his face. Those who knew his name challenged him for his reputation as murderer of comrades and assassin of kings. Those shinobi were foolish for they did not see what was hidden even deeper still. Behind the mask of exotic skin and expert skills laid the true monster of the hidden mist that thrived on the fear of his enemies.

Only few could boast with the fact that they had seen the true Monster of Kirigakura and lived. Even fewer ever realized that behind all his shame and glory, Hoshigaki Kisame had a furnace heart and a cold soul.

That was what Kisame had planned for Uchiha Itachi to see. That was the reason behind his introduction, his meaningless banter of previous murder. He wanted this child to fear him like a demon from the night-time story. This kin-butcher should gaze upon him and feel the bloodlust that was about to crash any who wasn't worthy of him.

But Uchiha Itachi was different. His cold coral eyes lingered on the monster for not a moment longer than necessary. Against the river and the morning sun, Itachi remained motionless like a statue of marble. In the blank porcelain face of the young killer, Kisame saw nothing but indifference. Not a flicker crossed those gentle features, not a blush betraying inner turmoil.

Kisame's smirk widened for the tiniest bit as Itachi didn't respond to his intimidation with the expected anxiety. Only an air of caution surrounded the genius traitor to Konohagakure that turned his slender back on Kisame. For a moment, the monster nodded his acknowledgment. He would be very displeased to know that his hidden leader had dumped yet another self-proclaimed villain or useless child in his lap.

Only that this fragile thirteen year old was neither a villain nor a child. If Kisame trusted his sense, this before him was a man too old for his innocent age. With onyx eyes as deep as the ocean itself, this creature before him was a mystery in the body of a child that had murdered hundreds in one single night.

In his many years among the most notorious of all five nations, Kisame had learned to read the mind of the evil. There was always a certain glint in the eyes of those he associated with that equaled the single star in the endless night, giving away their lust for power to bring further suffering into this world. If Kisame compared those men to the demons of the underworld, then Uchiha Itachi was the coldest and most vicious kind of them. It wasn't the malice of this boy that concerned Kisame, it was the lack of it. From the moment they met, Kisame had noticed that this boy had shielded his heart with an impenetrable wall of solid ice. The chill that was in everything Itachi did took grasp of Kisame, clawing at his mask that was essential to his survival in this cruel world.

Itachi's words of lecture dripped with wisdom and the frost of that tone stilled the blood in Kisame's body. Every single syllable spoken with the voice far too matured, far too dark for this pristine boy drilled into his flesh, causing his heart to rush, yet leaving his limbs numb.

Kisame bristled on the inside. He channeled his rage to free his treacherous body from the grasp of mere worlds. The humiliation at the hands of an insolent child drove Kisame to swing his great sword from its position. None had ever felt the presence of his loyal trophy and remained unchanged.

Not even Uchiha Itachi.

At least this brat had the decency to pay the expected respect to his senior murderer by pulling out a conceived kunai from his sleeve. Slowly, the boy rose to his feet, infernal eyes fixing on the monster behind him. No fear could be seen in those sinister eyes. No malevolence towards the defenseless, no hatred towards the world, no anger towards the threats of a stranger. Those burning eyes of a kin-butcher were simply hollow.

Before Kisame arrived at the idyllic lake to meet his new partner, he had wondered who this man was. He had heard the stories calling Itachi a genius, a prodigy to the most famous clan in the world and eventually their murderer. When he first laid eyes upon Itachi, Kisame had difficulty believing that those gentle fingers once grasped the sword that killed his own parents. He had wondered about the reasons this boy might have for slaying his own kin and butchering his comrades and friends. Every single one of them until one Uchiha remained.

But now, looking into those eyes that pierced into his very core, Hoshigaki Kisame had no doubt of the atrocity this man could commit. The thought of having him as a partner excited him beyond words. At the same time, Kisame found himself deeply revolted by the darkness that enveloped Uchiha Itachi.

 

II.

 

Hoshigaki Kisame had always hated lies. Deception was yet another form of it. To the monster of Kirigakure, a mystery was the master form of untold lies and well-placed deception. To say that his partner Uchiha Itachi was anything less would be an understatement.

Twelve months had passed since they first laid eyes on each other. Not once in all four seasons had Itachi attempted to lower those inner defenses, not once had he revealed what he conceived behind that mask he wore. Kisame had no real interest in the person that was Uchiha Itachi. He merely wished to unveil the mystery that stayed at his side like a shadow in the mid-day sun.

With questions upon questions on his mind, Kisame allowed his feet to take him to places he would not have visited in another life. They wandered through valleys and climbed the highest mountain. They crossed the fastest streams without effort and reached for the stars as if they were within their grasp. But all those were meaningless when Kisame possessed a heart that could not feel.

Sometimes, he wondered if Itachi as well had a cold heart that lost any ability to cherish the beauty of nature. He wondered about the small body beside him, sliding across the forest floor as if he himself consisted of no real form. He studied those hair of black silk swaying in the evening wind and the rain caught by his long eye-lashes. He watched those crimson eyes that never turned black again and wanted to know what they saw. Was it the same as he saw? Was it a world of darkness shrouded in a mist of blood?

“You are staring,” the matured voice of a child ripped him out of his contemplation. “The road is ahead, you shouldn't let your guard down.”

The tone this boy used was full of command. It was clear that the kin-butcher was used to be obeyed. Maybe the rumor of him being an ANBU captain by the age of thirteen wasn't wrong at all. But what shocked Kisame more was the fact that Itachi did speak first. Throughout all their time together, Itachi never said more than necessary, today was an exception.

“Why did you kill them?” Kisame promptly asked. He had nothing to lose. Either would Itachi punish him with more silence, or they would fight and determine who was the strongest.

“It was necessary,” the ex-konoha nin answered without a flinch.

“What for?”

“To test my capacity.” Itachi finished. “Why did you kill yours?”

“It was necessary,” Kisame gave the young boy a toothy grin.

“Ah.” The young boy nodded.

That was the end of their conversation. Kisame wasn't surprised of Itachi's caution. The real shock of that day wasn't the small talk they shared in the forest, but in the hotel they spent the night. They weren't close enough to share a room yet and this hotel was cheap enough for them to effort two. As the night fell upon the world and darkness lingered, Kisame's last candle burned down.

Laying awake in his silent room, the shark nin listened to the sounds of insects outside his window. Something was stealing his sleep. To many unanswered question, to many speculations running through his brain. Only when another sound was added to the scenery, did Kisame find something he could concentrate on.

What he heard shocked him to the deepest core.

From the room next to him came a muffled wince. Slowly rising to his feet, Kisame crossed the distance separating him from the paper door that shielded the vision to Itachi's room. He knelt down without sound and pushed the slid door to the side. Itachi's room was as dark as his, only the moonlight illuminating the small body laying on a cheap futon. Itachi's body was shimmering and trembling. From where Kisame remained, he could see clearly that the once handsome face of that gentle teen was contorted in hidden pain. A part of his covers was in his mouth, teeth bare to clench the fabric as if his life depended on it. The small fist was curled into the pillow, crushing the feathers inside.

He turned his head a little further to hide his face in the darkness. The reflection of shining tears on Itachi's face was fresh and bright as the stars outside. Another sob pierced through the silence and echoed through the night. It was louder as it should be and Kisame swore he would never forget that sound.

Kisame was a monster, he was a murderer, a killer and criminal. He was one of the most dangerous man in the world, yet seeing his child partner cry at night melted just the tiniest bit of his frozen heart. He contemplated if he should reach out for the tortured boy and give him the little comfort that seemed so vital at this point.

What he saw before him wasn't a killer. It wasn't a butcher or S-class criminal. It was only, and only a child that cried from the horror in his dreams.

 

III.

 

Hoshigaki Kisame had heard stories that were told before the world he knew even existed. It was said that in every Uchiha there rested an undying fire that would devour the forest that gave them life. It was said that the burning flame that rested inside them gave light in the blackest night but would darken the sky with ashes of those they burned when addressed wrongly.

Kisame had never believed the tales of peasants that feared the name as much as the man. He had never believed that his silent partner who was still a child and cried at night would transform into the demon he saw on the first day.

Eighteen months after their initial meeting, Hoshigaki Kisame would come to see what he would never forget in his life.

It was at the northern border of the land of fire. High trees cast the much needed shade from the merciless sun that shun down on the mere mortal. Wind blew over the highest leaves and made the forest sing on this autumn day. Kisame could smell the dying plants in the air, the fresh water running by. He would feel the forecast of winter that would paint the whole word in the color of innocence. He could sense his enemies surrounding him like hunters chasing a helpless pray.

He remembered the sensations tinkling down his spine. For once, he was alone. Without his child partner to remind him, without the invisible leash Uchiha Itachi had secretly placed around his throat, the monster lusted for battle. He could not wait to see the blood in the air, reflecting the spare sunlight. The excitement to duel to exhaustion, to press himself beyond his limitation and grow on it could barely be restrained.

The benefit of being one of the most wanted was that the most skilled were sent after him. Everyone of the Kiri-nin that blocked his path was renowned in his own right. Everyone of them hosted the intention to kill and the determination for victory that could only be gained in a land covered by blood-mist. Many of them Kisame knew from his own time in that hell. Everyone of them, he urged to fight.

But a squad of five shinobi of this caliber would even be too much for him. Yet still, Kisame did not retreat. He would win or die trying.

The battle was brutal, vicious and bloody. Screams echoed threw the woods as birds and other animals sought refuge in the distance. Samehade cut through the air to meet with hardened body. Sharp blades pieced through woods and man alike. Jutsus were released with more eager shouting, insults exchanged for advantage. For hours, Kisame fought. He grinned and treasured the moment. He cursed and gave himself into fury. Even as his legendary reserve of chakra sunk to near depletion and his body covered by many wounds, the passion inside him that could only be awakened by combat did not die down.

It was then a shadow dropped from the sky. Feathers from abyss and eyes from hell surrounded him, carrying him to save distance. Kisame wanted to protest at his stolen moment of closure. He did not need rescue for his own fight. He wanted to claim the victory himself or fall before the worthy foe.

“I don't need your assistance!” he snorted, blood leaking throw his bared teeth.

“Don't be reckless,” the shadow whispered and vanished.

The air he left behind smelled of fresh tee and distant flowers. The pale child that Kisame called his partner pieced through the high trees and met his opponent mid-air, sparks flying as metal met metal. The remaining three shinobi from the bloodmist hesitated for a single moment to assess their new enemy. Eyes widened in shock as the young Uchiha charged his opponents head on. He moved faster than the bare eye could see. In the air, his dark cloak appeared like wings that carried the young boy into the sky.

The first shinobi charged, a masterly forged blade directed at his partners heart. For an instant, Kisame thought that Itachi screamed as blood spread from his untouched mouth, crimson eyes wide with disbelieve. In the blink of an eye, the battered form changed its shape, dissolving into ravens that filled the air with endless screech. They spread their wings like their master had done with his cloak and charged into the second shinobi who toke cover on a lower branch. Feathers turned into blades, red eyes into fire. The man Kisame knew from his own village lifted his arms to protect himself but knew already that the coming attack would end his life.

This time, Kisame heard the man scream. The bleeding flesh torn by the shuriken wouldn't cause a seasoned warrior to cry like a desperate child. It was the fire that would devour the forest that surrounded the dying man who struggled in a bed of burning leaves. It was the same fire burning inside Uchiha Itachi that reduced those bones to ashes.

For less than one minute as this man died, the forest listened and mourned. When the cries of agony died out, the remaining two shinobi snapped out of the stupor. Words of insult were shouted into the seemingly empty forest. Accusation of cowardice and disloyalty were added as the young Uchiha remained hidden in the shadows.

Then, death came with the speed of striking lightning. The younger of the remaining two dropped to the ground like a puppet that lost its string, a wide slash gaping at his throat. Itachi looked down at the falling man and blinked. In that instant, the dying man's gasp died out as soft sigh left those bloodstained lips. The defeated died with a blissful smile on his face.

The last one left was the most dangerous. He was seasoned and sharp. Blow after blow, he matched Itachi's attacks. Fists flew with bone-crushing strength, kicks landed with rock splinting force. The ferocity of Itachi's moves were inhuman, the precision masterly. He moved with creativity, with youth, with dignity, with a beauty Kisame had never seen.

To Kisame, a fight had never been this mesmerizing. It was as if the younger man was dancing with the wind. Leaves swirled around him like the blossoms of a sakura tree, making him as unreal as a dream. His fair skin broke through the dark cloak as though it had a shine of his own. Those hair as soft as silk whipped around, hiding the handsome face that Kisame so wanted to see right now.

The dance that had no equal snapped to an end, breaking the wounded monster from his stare. The captain of that squad who so bravely challenged the outlaws sunk to his knees, blood dripping from his open lips. The blade that stuck to his heart was his own, his own broken wrist still in Itachi's grasp. Exhausted green eyes glared up to meet the infernal ones of his killer. With his last strength, the brave captain spat.

“Murderer!”

Blood mixed with saliva dripped from the fair cheeks of the Uchiha as one single word escaped those perfect lips.

“Burn.” Black fire consumed the flesh until only ashes rose to the sky.

In that moment, Kisame thought that his partner was the most beautiful demon to wander this earth.

 

IV.

 

Revulsion for his partner linger in the depth of his guts. His nights were filled with black feathers and burning eyes. In every shadow there was a raven staring at him. In every forest, black fire awaited him. Death came to him with the speed of striking lightning. Only agony and screams marked his end. Nothing remained of his world, his life, his name but ashes that would darken the sky.

Kisame jolted awake, sweat covering his entire body. The full moon loomed over him, smothering the gasp that reached his lips. She was not his goddess. She was not his ally. Her light gave him no warmth in the freezing night, her stare as cold as an accusing mother. She was the constant reminder that his life was nothing but a lie.

“You're burning,” the dark voice of a demon pieced the silence. It made his cold heart race and his exhausted body weak. Dizziness clouded his mind as pain surged through his limps. He did not remember where he was or what happened. But the hell was real and he was in it.

“Kisame,” Itachi's voice was soft next to his ear.

With a hesitation he could not afford, he dared to turn his face to look into those burning eyes. The face of the black-haired boy was one of concern. Those slender brows pulled into a deep frown as pale fingers reached out for him. Fear caught his guts and drove him away from the grasp of death.

“Shh,” Itachi whispered. “It's alright. I'm here.”

“Itachi-san?” Kisame felt worse than he could ever remember. “What happened?”

“Your wound is infected. Why did you not tell me that you were injured?” There was no malice, no cruelty or any threat in that voice. It was low and deep and sounded so soothingly soft. It rolled off his tongue like velvet and enveloped Kisame like a warm embrace. “Can you sit up?”

“I think so,” his own voice sounded hoarse. He didn't know how long he had been in that state but his joins were sore and his muscles screamed. “What happened?”

“Later.” The boy next to him shook his head slightly. “I need to look at your wound. Would you let me?”

He could only nod. He let the younger boy wrap one arm around his sweaty shoulder and another under his knees. With strength such a slender body should not have, Itachi lifted him from the ground. At the fireplace that was barely burning, the freeze that clung to his body began to retreat. In the dim light, Itachi's skin looked like molten gold. His lashes cast long shadows over his face as black bangs hid the expression. He could only see Itachi's lips, those perfect lips tight with exhaustion and tension.

“Drink this,” Itachi raised a bamboos water canteen to his broken lips. “Slowly.”

The sweet water tasted like nectar. It caressed his dry throat and gave him life. Carefully and full of patience, Itachi helped Kisame drink until he felt the cloud in his head give way to his mind. Strength returned to his limbs as wits caught up with the moment. The memory of the battle days before sneaked back into his brain, outlining the form of the demon that was so close to him.

“Itachi-san,” he croaked out. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh, don't talk. Save your strength, Kisame.” Itachi looked up at him with big red eyes. “I'll do what I can.”

Again, Kisame nodded dumfounded. He didn't understand what his partner was doing until a kunai appeared in his vision. Solely instinct drove his arm to Itachi's wrist, stopping it from advance. The raven did not fret. His other hand gently covered Kisame's sweaty one and pealed his fingers off. The same hand that just touched his came to rest on his shoulder, pushing him down to the ground with directing force.

Choosing to trust his partner, Kisame laid back down. His head connected with something soft that smelled like tee and weapon-oil. It calmed him, reminding him of a beautiful boy that was always close by his side. The said boy knelled down beside his large torso, kunai steady in his hand. The polished surface of the steal caught the shine of the fire and cast a light into Itachi's eyes. It sank down to Kisame's body and made no connection at all.

He heard the sound of fabric being torn but felt no pain. New chill met his skin when the shirt Itachi had cut was pulled from his body. The smell of blood assaulted his nose as Itachi's fingers danced across his bare chest. The tickle of his gentle fingers were more unbearable than the pain his his gaping flesh. In his weakened state, he couldn't even hold back a chuckle.

Instantly, Itachi's infernal eyes snapped around to meet his.

“It tickles.”

“Hn,” the Uchiha turned back to stare at his wound. “The weapon was poisoned. It needs to be cleaned and stitched. Try to be quiet.”

He did not wait for Kisame's consent but sank his head towards the bare skin. Hot lips met freezing skin and Kisame had to clench his teeth to prevent himself from sighing. It did not hurt. It felt good. Better than anythings he had felt in a long time. It reminded him of a time long gone where he had a heart that could enjoy another person's touch. As those lips met with his flesh repeatedly, drawing the poison from his blood in such an intimate way, he dared to close his eyes and remember the time when he had people to care for him and comfort him. It was a time when his life still had meaning. In that life, he had allowed himself to be fooled by lies and to feel.

“Stop moaning.” Itachi's voice snapped his eyes open. A wooden stick was in front of his face. “Bide down on it if you have to, just stop moaning.”

The raven did not look at him. In the dim light, Kisame couldn't tell if the redness on Itachi's cheeks was because of the blood that covered his face or the reflection of the fire. Shadow danced over those delicate features that were still more boy than man. The dancing light from the fireplace seemed almost to caress those line of his jaw. The curve of his brows were suddenly soft, the tip of his nose inviting. As concentration caught Itachi, it almost seemed the cold mask was crackling.

Studying that beautiful face and those gentle eyes, Kisame could forget the pain of his wound. He saw callous fingers of a small hand holding a needle reaching up and diving down. The threat that kept flesh together looked like Itachi's hair, glistening in the night. If there weren't for the blood at his partner's mouth, he would want to trace his thumb over those lips. He caught himself wondering how they tasted and how it looked if Itachi ever smiled.

“You're not a demon,” he heard himself whisper barely loudly enough over the crackling fire. When Itachi didn't respond but kept on his work, Kisame wondered if he had heard it. He tried again. “You're so gentle to me. You care about me.”

“Please, Kisame. Keep still.” The deep voice sounded deeply stressed. “I'm almost finished.”

Kisame almost gasped as Itachi bowed down to bite through the black threat. A wet cloth came to wash the blood off his skin. The gentleness of Itachi's hands were the sole reason he could not object when the younger boy started to wash off his sweat as well. Those hands touched every inch of his exposed torso and finally came up to clean his forehead. When it reached his cheeks, Kisame could not resist leaning into them. He wanted to lift his own hand to cover the small one but lacked the strength. Something heaving was pulling him into a slumber he did not want.

“Don't go anywhere,” he whispered with a sigh. He wanted to feel loved just for another moment more. “It's good when you're here.”

“It's the fever talking.” Itachi's deep velvet voice seemed to come from far away. “Sleep, rest. It'll be better in the morning.”

When he woke up the next morning, no trace of what happened in the night could be found. His head was clear, his body recovering. He laid on the same blanked he used the night before with Samehada just in his reach. His pouches had not been moved, nor seemed Itachi's. The raven sat in the same spot he occupied hours ago. Leaning against a tree, the Uchiha stared into the distance with a kunai firmly in his grasp. The lines in his face had hardened somewhat during the night, overlapping the gentleness what hid underneath. The darkness that shrouded the demon boy seemed more impenetrable as before. Everything seemed so much harsher in the day's light.

Was it not for his bandaged chest that hurt with every move, Kisame might have come to think of the night as a dream. But because of the wound on his chest, he knew that this wasn't a lie.

 

V.

 

Heaven split open and rain poured down. The storm outside represented the one inside of Kisame's chest. Mercilessly, the water from the sky smashed against the roof above his head and dropped a liquid curtain beyond his windows. It obscured his sight and confined him to his momentary prison that was the hotel they took for the night.

The sprint to this shabby little place was driven by a primal instinct Kisame didn't know he had. The whole way as his foot took them through the woods, he could only think of one thing, one thing only. Itachi.

If he was asked right now, he couldn't even believe how it happened. The Konoha ANBU dropped from the trees and suddenly the two S-rank missing nin were surrounded. The masks of the ANBU didn't scare him, nor did their weapons. But what scared him was that Itachi suddenly froze. When the fight broke out, the Uchiha was hesitant. He acted much slower than he should be, punching with hesitation and less strength. Three time had Kisame seen an ANBU sword cut through Itachi's cloak, one time it had a near miss with the raven's long hair.

Never before had Itachi stopped before the final blow. When he stood above a defeated ANBU, Kisame swore he saw pain in Itachi's face. Something was completely off. He didn't see what happened next for his own opponent occupied his attention. But when he turned back after killing that man quicker than a foe of his skill was due, the defeated ANBU with the colorful cat mask was out of Itachi's reach. The broad ANBU with brown hair couched before the Uchiha with every muscle of his body tensed for a moment before he withdrew his weapon and melted into the earth.

The entire time, Itachi just stood there and watched his target escape. Then, when the moans of the dying stilled and the cat ANBU was long gone, the raven broke into a violent cough that wouldn't stop until he collapsed between the corpses. Kisame was at his side before his beautiful head hit the ground. The slender hand that covered those perfect lips slid from the face and Kisame gasped as he saw blood in that pale palm.

Itachi had not stirred the entire time as he rushed for this inn. When he burst through the door, Itachi had lost so much blood his skin resembled winter snow. Kisame had shouted at the woman upfront and got his room within minutes. Once Itachi was placed on a cheep futon, Kisame had yelled at the woman again and promised a handsome reward if she brought some medicine and a hot brew.

A hour later, a young girl had brought a miso soup and hurried away as soon as she saw him. Kisame had tried to stop the bleeding and clean the wounds. But he was no medic. He had no gentle fingers or calming voice. He desperately wanted to repay the kindness that was shown to him in a full moon night so many years ago but had not dared to make things worse. All he could do was to wait and pray that whatever kami was above would not steal the only good thing in his life.

The woman with the medicine came and went. A new soup was brought and left untouched as the monster stood vigil for his wounded partner. He watched and stared, prayed and hoped, but all those were useless when Itachi just wouldn't wake. The night past with Kisame not closing his eyes for once. He watched the oil-lamp flicker in the night and Itachi's chest rise and sank. He listened to the even breaths and swallowed his own helplessness.

In that moment, Kisame vowed to himself that he would never be in this situation again. He had let Itachi into his heart and now he was punished by it. Realizing his feelings, Kisame could not even think about banishing Itachi's from his mind. Without Itachi, he'd be lost again, wandering in the mist with no goal in sight. Without the raven, his heart would have no reason to beat. He would have absolutely nothing in this world but a big fat lie.

That was the time when Itachi decided to end his suffering. A cough broke through the sound of rain and drew Kisame to his feet. He met Itachi's eyes as it fluttered open, revealing onyx eyes he had not seen for a very long time. The scar on his chest tickled at that tender gaze and something in his guts turned.

Itachi looked utterly defeated and exhausted. Though he was only a man of nineteen years, his eyes were those of a man who had seen too much. There was a unbroken grief in those eyes that spoke of pain that never ended. No light was there, no glint, no hope. In that moment, Kisame couldn't say if the man that started up at him was alive or not.

“It's alright, Itachi-san,” Kisame tried to be gentle. “Everything's going to be alright.”

“I'm dying, Kisame.” the young man whispered feebly. His eyes fluttered close and did not open for another day.

It seemed to Kisame as if he had remained there for hours, hearing those three words in his head over and over again. Though the man who spoke it was directly in front of him, Kisame could not see him. He could only hear those words in his head again and again until the whole world wasn't there anymore.

He didn't know when he fell asleep but when he woke up, the night had ended and the day had begun. Itachi was awake and sitting at the table only a yard away, leaning over a set of fir aid kit. When he turned around to look at Kisame, it was as if nothing happened. Color had returned to his face and the cold mask was back at its place. Those onyx eyes full of sorrow were hidden behind the crimson that only showed anger and hatred.

They did not spoke of the night just like they never spoke of the night Itachi drew venom from his wound with his lips. They nodded at each other in mutual understanding and went back to pretend that nothing was wrong. Kisame that he was strong and fearless and Itachi to not caring and not dying.

It worked. Until it didn't.

 

VI.

 

Hoshigaki Kisame had a heart that would never feel. It was cold and broken. The splinters that broke off the ice of that heart drilled deep into his soul, blinding him with unbearable pain. He could not remember another occasion where he had been in that much pain.

It didn't make sense. He had no wounds, he was not sick and suffered no illusion. Yet agony was the only thing he could name right now for Uchiha Itachi lay dead before him.

The dead man before him had his partner face. He wore Itachi's clothes and carried Itachi's scent. Everything was as Kisame remembered when they parted. But this dead man before didn't resemble his partner at all. No one who had known the famous Uchiha in the past years would believe that this young man with a gentle expression was once the renowned murderer. No one would claim that he could be defeated.

Kisame had not believed it himself. But now that the impossible happened and was as undeniable as the next sunrise, he cursed himself for pretending. He had seen Itachi cough blood more often. He had smelled the medicine the raven took in secret. He had witness those infernal eyes turn dark as it tore his body apart. But he had not reacted.

Now, it was too late. Itachi was dead and Kisame would never feel again.

Under the pretense of paying due tribute, Kisame had asked for some time alone with the beautiful raven. He had wanted so much from Itachi but never had the courage to simply ask for it. Ever since the night gentle fingers stroke his skin while he burned inside, Kisame had wanted to touch the raven. Had wanted to wash the blood from his fair skin and feel the fire that burning inside. He had wanted to press his nose into that curtain of silk and smell distant flowers and herbal tee.

Now, he would do it.

Slowly, Kisame loosened Itachi's white belt with trembling fingers. He repeated what was done to him so many years ago and cut Itachi's shirt with a kunai. The skin beneath was littered with scars. The once creamy complexion was now colorless, its intensity piercing into the monster. The first tear dropped onto the dead flesh when his fingers touched the solid muscles. How cruel this world was to torture someone so beautiful.

His own big fingers traced Itachi's skin, yet he felt nothing but the cold. He washed the blood off the torso and moved to clean that gentle face. Those who had brought Itachi back didn't even bother wiping the blood away. When the cloth in his fingers connected with those hollow cheeks, Kisame couldn't say if it was the water or his tears that washed the blood away. His throat became hoarse and his limbs heavy. Strength left him as a new wave of memory assaulted his brain.

In a night a long time ago, he had watched Itachi wipe the blood from his own body. He had froze at the door, seeing the raven kneeling in front of a mirror, eyes traveling down his own body. He watched Itachi's gentle fingers leading a threat through his own flesh. Blood covered his left arm, hiding a tattoo Kisame knew was there. When Itachi cleaned himself, his thumb lingered a moment longer over the marked surface of his skin. The sorrow in Itachi's eyes had spoken of tragedy Kisame would never know. It was then that Kisame noticed that Itachi had become a man. It was in that night he had first dreamed of his partner in intimate ways.

In reality, Kisame saw nothing of it. His heart only screamed as he washed the wound on Itachi's thigh. The flesh was cool, the bleeding long stopped. Now, he could not even feel any anger or hatred for the one who had done this to his most beloved person. He cried more, his vision of the beautiful raven blurring before him. He just wanted to restore Itachi to his prime, when his hair was soft and his body young. He wanted to see Itachi fly through the trees and dance over water. He longed for the scent this man left behind and the sound of his voice echoing in the air. He wanted so much, but he could take only so little.

It took hours to clean his partner. Kisame had touched every bit of that body and counted every scar. He had combed through the hair, streak for streak just to have something to hold on it. He dressed the Uchiha in his best tunic and bound the white belt back at its place. He stroke Itachi's brow and bound his hair. He put shoes on those small feet and slid the ring back on his finger. At last, Kisame tiled the damaged Konoha headband around Itachi's forehead.

Now, he could almost believe that his partner was only sleeping.

Weakness caught him as his knees connected with the floor. He clung to Itachi's arm and let out a scream like he had never done before. It came from deep down within him, the sound of a man who had just lost everything. His world had turned dark. The demon that was his light was gone and only a gaping hole remained. He felt as if someone had stabbed him, broke him, maybe even killed him. He tried to tell himself that he would avenge his partner but couldn't feel anything but the pain.

Tears like they've never flown before streamed down his face. In the night, at a cold stone table, the Monster of Kirigakura cried like a small child. He didn't care who saw him or what was said about him. He couldn't care about anything but the man who laid dead before him. In a rush of new pain, Kisame pulled himself from the ground. He leaned over the pale body and grasped those slender shoulders. He shook Itachi and yelled at him and slapped his cheeks. But Itachi would not wake.

He cursed the heaven and the hell, he screamed for the demons and the gods. He prayed to every deity he knew and offered the only thing he had to give. He promised that if anyone returned Itachi to him, his life belong to that entity. But in this forsaken place, none of his prayers was heard.

After hours as it seemed to Kisame, after his throat was soundless and his eyes deprived of tears, he stared at the sleeping form of his love and vowed. He vowed that no matter what happened to him, he would see Itachi again. Should it be in hell or in heaven or an endless dreams, one day, he would be with Itachi again. And when that day came, he would take what should have been his. He would open his heart to the raven and lay his soul bare. He would hold on and never let go.

He leaned down and pressed his swollen lips to Itachi's perfect ones. This one time, he would take without asking first. Kisame kissed Itachi again and again. He kissed every bit of the raven, his cheeks, his nose, his chest and his fingers. He lifted the Uchiha from the stone and cradled him in his own arms. For this night, he will pretend for the last time. Tonight, he would sleep as if his partner was alive in his embrace. Tonight, he would lie to himself. When the sun rose in the morning, Kisame would be a dead man without a beating heart. He would bring havoc to this world for it had wronged him so gravely. He would slaughter and he would wander, he would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with his partner.

To give his life meaning, Kisame needed Uchiha Itachi.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please don't cry.


End file.
